


The Bet

by sullenhearts



Category: Bandom, The Academy Is...
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 03:25:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17216108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sullenhearts/pseuds/sullenhearts
Summary: Can Bill win a bet against Mike even when he meets mysterious stranger Gabe?Betaed by F, thanks!





	The Bet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snarkasaurus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkasaurus/gifts).



“There are no more men,” Bill said, throwing himself into the booth next to Mike. “All of the men…. Are gone!” There was a dramatic pause.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Mike said. 

“I have fucked all the available men,” Bill said. “There are no more men.”

Kevin, never the most used to Bill’s existence anyway, tittered a laugh. 

“It’s not _funny_ ,” Bill said dramatically. He banged his head down on to the table and stayed there, groaning softly.

“It is kinda funny,” Mike said loyally. “What happened?”

“Men. Men happened.” Bill was muffled. He stayed there for another few moments and then sat up. “Okay, New Year’s resolution.”

“It’s November,” Kevin pointed out, not unkindly. 

“I’m ahead of the curve,” Bill said. “New Year’s resolution,” he said again, smacking the table with both hands. “I am not screwing anyone else until my birthday.”

“You might perish,” Mike said. 

Kevin grinned. “That’s February, right? That’s like… ten weeks away? Almost eighty nights.”

Mike gave a low whistle. “That’s a lot of lonely nights, Beckett. Sure you can handle it?”

Bill pressed his lips together. “Sure.”

“Sure,” Mike said. Then he leaned forward. “I bet you twenty bucks you can’t do it.”

“I will also make that bet,” Kevin said. “Twenty.”

“Since when did you gamble?” Bill complained.

“I feel like making twenty bucks,” Kevin said, shrugging.

Mike smirked at him. That was what he liked about Kevin; he’d always do something to surprise you. Betting on Bill was new. And it would piss Bill off too, which was always a bonus. 

Bill hissed, actually hissed. He’d have probably said more but then Michael slung himself into the booth next to Kevin.

“Evening,” he said. 

“Hey Michael,” Kevin said.

Mike reached across to shake his hand. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” Michael said. “Want a beer?”

“Sure,” Mike said, draining the last of the one he was drinking. 

Kevin asked for another coke and Bill just sighed dramatically. Michael motioned over to James at the bar, and looked at Bill. 

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked.

“He’s a drama queen,” Mike said.

“Fuck _you_ ,” Bill said. He was rubbing his forehead, which served him right. 

Michael laughed. “Hey, Kev, did you get the notes from yesterday? I missed the class…”

“I did,” Kevin nodded, and pulled out his phone for Michael to look over.

James came from the bar with three beers and a coke, and slid into the booth next to Michael. Mike had never been sure exactly what their deal was, but they were exchange students, from the same part of Sydney, and they sure acted like they didn’t care what anyone else thought of them. Mike liked that. They were good people. 

“Alright?” James said, which was a weird way to say hello. 

“Bill’s being a drama queen,” Michael said.

“Hey get in on it, though,” Mike said. “He’s decided he’s not fucking anyone else until his _birthday_. So we’ve bet him that he can’t do it.”

Michael snorted. “Of course he can’t do it. He’s Chicago’s biggest slut.”

Bill gasped a breath. 

“What happened, anyway?” Michael said. “Who did you piss off this time?”

Bill didn’t need to answer because just then the My Chem boys came into the bar, four of them huddled around Mikey in the middle, who looked pretty wrecked.

“You slept with Wentz again!” Mike said.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Michael said.

“I did _not_ ,” Bill said. “Well, there was no actual sex involved…”

“Look at Mikey Way,” Mike said. “Look what you did.”

They all looked across at the My Chem posse, who seemed to exist in some kind of polycule where everyone involved everyone in a lot of cuddling and love and maybe some sex between at least two of them, and who were, at that moment, doing a very studious impression of ignoring Mike’s booth and companions. They also appeared to be ordering shots of tequila. This was going to get messy unless Mike warded it off. 

“So there’s a bet, is there?” James said. “Ten bucks get me in?”

“I’ll do it,” Bill said. “I will not sleep with any men until my birthday, so fuck all you guys.”

Michael laughed. “I’m in for ten too.”

“Fine, whatever,” Bill said, waving a hand. 

Then Bob looked over and Bill shrank back into the seat. “Oh fuck,” he said. “Please don’t let anyone come over…”

“They’re cool,” Mike said. “But maybe drink up and we’ll go.”

Before long, Mike and Kevin and Bill were on their way home. Mike didn’t trust Bill as far as he’d be able to throw him, so they all walked back to Mike and Bill’s place first. Mike went inside and gave Sisky – draped over the Butcher as usual – strict instructions to not let Bill out of his sight. 

Then he stepped back out on to the porch to walk Kevin home. 

“All okay?” Kevin said lightly. 

It was a phrase of Mike’s, picked up from his ex-military father, and it made Mike’s heart melt a little every time Kevin said it. 

“All fine,” Mike said, and squeezed Kevin’s fingers.

They split apart to walk the couple blocks over to Kevin’s dorm. The weather had turned; there was a nip of snow in the air and Mike wondered if his snow tires were still good. 

“So, um, what are you doing for Christmas?” Kevin asked.

“Huh? I dunno? Why?”

“I’m not sure I’m welcome at home.”

“…Oh.” Mike hadn’t thought about that. Kevin had come out to his parents over the summer, just after they’d started seeing each other, and because he spoke to his mom pretty regularly now and that seemed okay, Mike had assumed everything would be okay by Christmas for Kevin to go home. 

Fuck, he already felt guilty enough that Kevin had come out because of him and everything had gone to shit. 

“Okay,” he said eventually. “Let’s have Christmas at my house.”

“You’re not going home?”

“Well…” Mike would certainly be welcome at home, but with the divorce and everything, he never really looked forward to it. Making Christmas for themselves was a nice idea. “Nah, let’s do it. Invite a few people.”

“All the waifs and strays?”

“All of ‘em,” Mike laughed.

Kevin smiled. “Do you think Mikey and Pete will be okay?”

“Probably, no thanks to that idiot. Don’t worry about ‘em.”

“I always worry,” Kevin said softly, turning into his street. “You can leave me here.”

“Okay,” Mike nodded. “Text me.”

“I will,” Kevin said. 

They kissed quickly between streetlights on the quiet road, and then Mike turned towards home, hoping against hope that Bill hadn’t gone out again.

*

“So we’re hosting Christmas,” Bill said a couple days later. He was eating pasta with a shit ton of pesto and it smelt noxious. 

“Mmm hmm,” Sisky said, his eyes on the TV. He was whooping the Butcher’s ass at some game or other, who knew. 

“You’ll be here, right?” Bill asked.

“We’ll be here,” Sisky said. 

His mom was pretty absent from his life; Sisky’s brother was around sometimes but Mike thought he was on the island right now too. Butcher’s relationship with his family was close to non-existent, so he would probably appreciate there being something to do here. 

So Mike made shopping lists and let the word out that their place would be open for all the waifs and strays, as Kevin had put it, and then he bought some food and stocked up on beer. 

On Christmas Day he cooked two turkeys, roasted a ton of potatoes, and made a vat of mac and cheese. He had no idea if there’d be enough food or if there’d be too much. To begin with there were only a handful of them, but throughout the day people started to trickle in, bringing beer or vodka, and usually some food too. The music was playing and it was snowing gently, just a little, not enough to alarm anyone, but enough to make it look festive.

“This is the best party ever,” Sisky said, drunkenly cuddling into Mike. 

It was about 8pm, and the door was just opening and more people came in. Gerard was among them, but Mike didn’t know them all. 

He did, however, see Bill clock a tall guy who came in then too. He was pretty good looking, and he smiled at Bill as Bill offered a drink and something to eat. 

“This is where I win my bet,” Mike said to Sisky.

“You should always win all your bets, Mike Carden,” Sisky said, and pulled him closer to kiss his cheek.

“Maybe you should eat,” Mike said, and steered Sisky toward the kitchen so he could pick up a bowl of pasta. 

“Boring,” Sisky said, but he filled a bowl and started to chew a mouthful anyway.

Gerard and Bob found themselves some room on the sofa. 

“How’s it going?” Mike said.

“Mikey didn’t want to come,” Gerard said, which wasn’t an answer, and didn’t have much to do with Mike anyway.

He nodded. “Sure.”

“But, well, thanks for inviting us.”

“You’re welcome,” Mike said. He was aware that Gerard and Bob were both looking at something behind him.

He turned.

Bill and the tall drink of water Mike didn’t know were sitting on the stairs, side by side on the bottom step, chatting very happily, their faces extremely close together. 

Mike would have that twenty dollars in his hand by midnight, for sure.

*

He woke up in, surprisingly, his own bed, with Kevin curled into him. The snow had worsened and a bunch of people had ended up sleeping over, making beds where they could with whatever blankets Mike and the others had hanging around. Mike was cold; he’d left only the comforter on his own bed and in the cold morning it wasn’t enough. Kevin was still wearing most of his clothes, for the sake of propriety, even though Mike thought that was stupid, but Mike was just in his tracksuit bottoms, and his top half was freezing. 

He found a sweater, and headed downstairs. 

To his complete surprise, Bill was in the hallway. 

“Fuck,” Mike said, jumping in shock. “You’re up early.”

“I haven’t been to bed,” Bill said. He was smiling softly, closing the door behind him.

“Why not?”

“Because me and Gabe stayed up all night talking,” Bill said, his voice sounding all floaty and weird.

“Is that his name? Where’s he from?”

“New York. Uruguay.”

Mike frowned. “Coffee?”

“Yes,” Bill said, and followed him into the kitchen, stepping over bodies in the living room on the way.

“How did he end up here?” Mike asked.

“He’s friends with Travie,” Bill said. 

“Was Travis here?”

“No,” Bill said. “But Gabe couldn’t get home to New York so Travie told him to come call on us.”

“Cool.”

“Isn’t it?” Bill grinned and flicked on the coffeemaker. 

“So did you screw him?”

“No, Michael, no I did not.”

“Really?” Mike started to load the dishwasher. Did he believe Bill? You could never tell. 

“Really.” Bill pulled out two cups and the creamer. He was humming. Humming!

Mike turned to look at him properly, scrutinising every inch of Bill’s face. 

Bill was a terrible liar. It didn’t seem he was lying. He really hadn’t had sex with the mysterious stranger. 

 

*

“Bullshit!” Michael said on New Year’s Eve when Mike relayed this information to the group at large. “Bull _shit_.”

“I haven’t!” Bill said. “I have NOT fucked him.”

“Why not?” Michael demanded. 

“I mean that’s a fair question,” Mike said.

“Because I’m not paying out a hundred bucks,” Bill said. 

“I think it’s up at two hundred now,” Tom said.

“Well there you go, then. I’m definitely not paying that out.”

“He’s been at our place every day,” Mike said. “I feel like I know the dude intimately.”

“He’s perfect,” Bill said dreamily.

“Oh yeah,” Mike said. “Perfect matinee idol.”

Everyone laughed. 

“You’re just jealous,” Bill said.

“Nah,” Mike said, touching Kevin’s thigh under the table. He was pretty happy, as it went. 

“I’ve slept with him,” Bill said. “Like, in my bed. But no sex, no no.”

Mike opened his mouth to say more but then Bill sprang up from their booth and sprinted across the bar. Gabe had arrived. 

Mike rolled his eyes. “Forget him,” he said, and drained his beer. “Who wants tequila shots?”

Some hours later he felt way drunk. Kevin had persuaded him to dance, so they were at the edge of the dancefloor and Mike was trying to not feel like a total dumbass. Kevin couldn’t dance either, which helped. They wound their way around each other, laughing and kissing when they came close to each other. The dancefloor was pretty full. It was almost midnight. 

Mike could see Bill and Gabe out of the corner of his eye, Gabe leaning against the wall and Bill tilting into him, flirting outrageously with him. 

Was a time that Mike would’ve been jealous of that, would’ve probably reacted angrily and pushed Bill away while wanting to pull him close instead. They’d never been anything serious but they’d always been something, neither of them sure what to do with it, what to do with the weight of their feelings for each other. It had been destructive; when they’d lived in dorms in their freshman year they’d come to blows more than once. Last year Mike had been in this house and had rarely seen Bill. Then he met Kevin and somehow life made more sense with Kevin in it, and he and Bill had managed to go back to being friends. Good friends. It was better than Mike had imagined, and it came with added Sisky and Butcher and all the rest of ‘em. 

But Bill had spent the last few months fucking his way round Chicago, sleeping with god knows how many people. That was fine, obviously, but it always brought so much drama and it was that Mike objected to. So to see him actually stuck on this one guy was kinda nice. 

It was getting close to midnight and the music stopped. Kevin pulled Mike closer, winding one arm round his neck. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey Jonas,” Mike said, which always made Kevin smile.

It did, but Kevin looked kind of serious too. “Mike,” he said. 

“Yeah?” 

The countdown from ten was beginning, deafening Mike as everyone yelled, so he had to bend in close to Kevin.

“I love you,” Kevin said softly. “I thought you should know.”

Mike tried to say it back, but it was midnight and everyone was yelling, so he just kissed Kevin and wished him a happy new year before turning to friends nearby to wish them the same. 

He said it back, later, when they were all walking back to Mike’s through slushy streets, laughing and dancing happily. Sisky was ahead, leaping over puddles and snow drifts and fire hydrants, Butcher racing after him. Bill and Gabe both had their hands deep in their pockets, but they were almost elbow to elbow, talking quietly and laughing. Tom and Michael and James were next, stumbling drunkenly through the snow. Mike felt completely sober, now. Kevin’s words had sobered him. 

It was late and the streets were quiet, so they held hands, gloveless even though it was freezing. They hadn’t said much since the bar had closed, and Mike’s stomach fluttered because the longer he left it, the worse it felt. 

When they were a couple of streets from home Mike pulled back from the others even more, tugging on Kevin’s hand. 

“Thank you,” he began, “for what you said.”

“You don’t have to say it back,” Kevin said quickly. “I just…”

“Kevin,” Mike said. “I do love you, dumbass.”

“I’m not a dumbass.”

“You are kinda,” Mike said, and kissed him. 

“I love you a lot,” Kevin said.

“I love you a lot too,” Mike said, grinning, and set off still holding Kevin’s hand to catch up with the others. 

 

*

 

At 6pm New Year’s Day Gabe was still in their house and then his friends descended too. Kevin had had to go to work, but everyone else had spent most of the day smoking weed, watching terrible movies, and chilling out. Mike was just considering going out for food when Gabe’s friends arrived. There were four of them, three guys and a very pretty girl who knew the Butcher somehow. She sat down with him and Sisky and stole a joint from Gabe. Mike liked her immediately.

“I’m too tired to party,” Mike said. 

“This isn’t a party,” Bill said. “This is a chill out.” He handed over a Coors Light. “Santi.”

“Cheers,” Mike said, feeling his head start to pound. 

“Let’s order pizza,” Sisky said eventually. 

Five pizzas later everyone was even quieter, tired from the night before. Mike got up to find a cold drink and found himself in the kitchen with Gabe.

“Hey,” Gabe said.

“Hey,” Mike said. “Okay?”

“I’m peachy,” Gabe said. “You don’t mind if I’m here, do you?”

“No?” Mike cracked the tab on the can of soda he’d plucked out of the vegetable drawer, and took a gulp. 

“I’m not sure if you like me.”

“I don’t know you,” Mike said. “Bill likes you plenty.”

“I like him. He’s a good person.”

“He’s the best,” Mike said, and sipped some more Pepsi.

“So we can be buddies, right?” Gabe said.

“Of course,” Mike said. He didn’t know what vibe he was giving off, he didn’t know what Bill had or hadn’t said about him. But he did know how to make people feel like part of the crew. He’d done it with Michael when they’d first been friends. He grinned. “Do you like to play poker?”

“No,” Gabe said, grinning in a way that showed all his teeth, “I like to win poker.”

Mike nodded, pretending to think. “We’ll see,” he said. “We’ll see.”

He found the cards and the chips in to the living room. Sisky cleared the top of the ottoman so Mike could deal the cards, and everyone gathered round. “Who’s in?” Mike said.

“Obviously,” Gabe said. 

“Oh, please don’t,” Bill said, shuffling so he was sitting behind Gabe, his back against the couch, smirking across at Mike. “Mike’s a superstar. You’ll lose, and you’ll cry.”

“I learned to play poker with my grandma,” Gabe said. “She cried, too, when I beat my uncles out of their pay packets.”

Bill laughed.

“You talk a good talk,” Mike said, enjoying himself. Ryland had sunk down to his left, and Butcher took a seat to Mike’s right. Mike started to deal. 

“This ends badly,” Bill said, tipping his head back to swallow some beer. 

An hour later Butcher was asleep against Sisky’s feet and Ryland was making a concerning keening noise every time the cards were dealt.

“Fold,” Gabe said. “Just fold.”

“No!” Ryland said, pulling on his hair. “This sucks.”

“Sorry,” Mike said, and then felt only a little bit bad when he won the hand. 

Finally Ryland folded and stood up. “I’m out. I am so out. I need to pee.”

Mike dealt the cards for himself and Gabe. It was late now; it had to be past midnight. His head was still kind of painful and more weed and alcohol hadn’t helped. 

He had a bad hand. He licked his lips, laid the cards back down on the ottoman. He would go in hard and bet twenty dollars. 

“Fuck’s sake,” Bill said.

“You shush,” Mike said. “Gabe?”

“I’m in,” Gabe said. “I’ll see your twenty and raise you twenty.” His face was inscrutable, just a small smile playing at the edges of his mouth. He gave absolutely nothing away. Mike was usually pretty good at tells, but he’d been watching Gabe for the whole game and couldn’t see a pattern yet. 

Fuck. 

“Alright, alright, jeez,” Mike said, throwing his chips to Gabe. “You win.”

“I thank you,” Gabe said, laughing. 

Mike plucked out his wallet to pay Gabe what he owed. 

Gabe stood up, hauled Bill to his feet, took the money of Mike and said, “I think it’s bedtime.”

“Fuck yeah,” Bill said, and followed him out to the hallway. “I’m still not fucking him!”

“What?” Gabe said, and Mike laughed because he would love to hear Bill try to explain _that_ one.

 

*

 

Finally, it was Bill’s birthday and they were all out in the bar. It had started early with tequila slammers and then had moved on to cocktails served in huge glass pitchers. This place didn’t even usually do cocktails, so Christ knows how Bill had managed to talk the barman into it. There was even a pitcher of mocktail for Kevin, which Mike appreciated. He had danced a little and talked a little and drank more than a little, and now he was watching Bill smile as Gabe flirted outrageously with him. They were dancing close, Gabe’s hand on Bill’s hip, Bill laughing around the straw of his cocktail. Couldn’t be said they didn’t make a good looking couple. 

Mike had once heard it said that envy was coveting what someone else had, and jealousy was the fear that someone else would take away what you had. If that was true, it could be said he felt neither. He had never had Bill, not really. And he had something – someone – pretty amazing of his own. 

And Gabe was a decent guy, and it had to be said that life had been far less fraught since he’d been around. Three of the My Chem boys were here, even, Bob and Ray and Frank, sitting at a table with Michael, laughing loudly at each other. 

Still, though, Mike was kind of going to miss this stupid bet they’d had going, mostly because he liked Bill to be outraged about something or other. He was sure something else would crop up soon, but in the meantime, he had a bet to settle. Mike Carden always paid his debts.

“Thank you,” Bill said, taking the twenty dollars from Mike’s fingers. “I guess I gotta go clean up from everyone else, too.”

“I think we’ll get going,” Mike said. “See you later?”

“Tomorrow,” Bill said. “We rented a hotel room and I’m on a promise.”

“And you,” Gabe said, grinning widely, “helped to pay for it. Thanks, I think.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mike said, and leaned in to hug Bill. “Have fun.”

“I always do,” Bill said, slurping loudly through the straw. “I always do.”


End file.
